


A String of Bad Luck

by houdini74



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magical Realism, Angst with a Happy Ending, M/M, good luck/bad luck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-19
Updated: 2019-07-21
Packaged: 2020-07-08 16:11:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19872403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/houdini74/pseuds/houdini74
Summary: Patrick is David's good luck charm until one day the luck runs out.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I would just like everyone to know that even though I've done some terrible, heart-wrenching things to AU David and Patrick in this story, I fully believe that canon David and Patrick are living their best, happy lives and that nothing bad ever happens to them. 
> 
> I'm just finishing final edits on the other chapters so they'll be up in the next few days.

David had always known he had bad luck. For the first thirty years of his life, it had touched every part of him, his relationships, his gallery, culminating with his family losing everything. He’d carried it with him for years, an invisible weight that he could feel, holding him back, weighing him down. Until Patrick. The second he’d touched Patrick’s hand the first time they’d met, he’d felt that weight lighten. He’d been terrified at first, sure that it couldn’t last. But now, five years later, it felt like it had always been that way, with Patrick using his good luck to displace his bad luck, lightening the load he carried.

He opened the door to the store, smiling as he saw his husband behind the counter. Had either of them been able to see it in the air, they would have noticed as the good luck trickled out from Patrick when he laid eyes on his husband. 

“Hey.” David handed Patrick a cup of tea and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek, nuzzling his ear for a second before pulling away, a sense of contentment falling over him the way it always did when they came together.

“Hi.” They’d seen each other an hour ago when Patrick had left David smiling softly against the pillows in their bed, hair tousled and half asleep but seeing Patrick made his insides spark, even after two years of marriage.

“What all this?” Patrick had the store’s laptop open on the counter and was looking through a stack of spreadsheets that made David’s head spin, even just to glance at.

“Our sales didn’t meet our projections last month. We still made a profit, but I want to chase down the problem.”

“Don’t you usually…” David made a random gesture at Patrick. He knew Patrick used his good luck to nudge the sales at the store in the right direction, so a month that didn’t meet expectations was unusual. 

“Mmm hmm.” For the briefest second, David thought he saw a flash of worry in Patrick’s eyes, before it was gone, replaced by his usual humor and teasing. 

“Now that you’re finally here, the bath oil needs restocking.”

He gave Patrick another quick kiss and headed into the back room. He picked up the box of bath oil and turned to take it to the front room of the store. Without warning, it slipped through his hands and crashed to the floor.

“Oh, fuck!”

Moments later, Patrick found him standing amidst the wreckage of the box of oil. Several of the bottles had shattered and oil and broken glass was everywhere. 

“It just slipped.” 

He was completely confused, he couldn’t remember the last time one of them had broken something. One of the advantages of being married to someone with good luck was that it compensated for the other person’s bad luck. He could push his bad luck away, keeping it contained, letting Patrick’s good luck smooth out their daily misfortunes. Since they’d been together broken bottles and misplaced keys had become a thing of the past. Or so he’d thought.

Cleaning up the mess took longer than it should have. Little bits of glass were everywhere and the area that had been covered in oil had to be mopped several times before they managed to get it all. Thankfully, it had happened in the back room, so they didn’t have to work around their customers, but the stream of people coming into the store just seemed like an added distraction. By the time they were done with the mess, they were both tired and irritable.

The day didn’t get any better. Twyla mixed up their lunch order and they had to eat corned beef sandwiches, which they both hated. Then he got into an argument with a customer which Patrick had to smooth over by giving a 25% discount, which made him even more bad-tempered than he’d been before. By the end of the day, all David wanted to do was to go home and lie on the couch with a glass of wine.

“Pizza?” 

Patrick had finished closing out the till and was getting the cash and receipts ready to go into their safe for the night. David reached over and rubbed his finger between Patrick’s eyebrows, smoothing out the crease that had been there most of the day. He knew that Patrick was in a bad mood and even though it didn’t make him spiral the way it once would have, he didn’t like the feeling he had when Patrick was unhappy.

Patrick closed his eyes for a second. “God, yes, pizza. And maybe other things.”

“Mmm. Like ice cream for dessert?” He was definitely interested in the other things that Patrick had in mind. And, he was also interested in ice cream. Maybe he could convince Patrick to combine the two if he went about things the right way. 

“Sure, like ice cream for dessert.” Patrick rolled his eyes as he wrapped his arms around David’s waist, waiting until David placed his arms around his neck like he always did. He ran his hands part way up David’s back, he started to relax as Patrick touched him.

“Let’s go home.” 

“Mmm. Not yet.” David bent to kiss him, slowly and sweetly. He felt the stress of the day begin to fade away. He tightened his grip on Patrick’s neck a little bit and kissed him lazily, letting the feelings of comfort and safety roll between them, soothing away the edges of the day. The kiss shifted from languid and tender to something deeper, he felt Patrick lean into him, tugging his hips closer.

“I can’t wait to get you home…”

“Yeah.” Patrick’s voice was breathy as his lips chased David’s, seeking the contact he’d broken.

“...and eat ice cream.”

“Okay.” Patrick rolled his eyes, pretending to be annoyed. He pulled away, his hands skimming over the ticklish spot at the top of David’s hips in retaliation, making him flinch. “I hope you’re prepared to watch baseball while you eat your ice cream.”

“We’ll see.” He ran his finger down the open collar of Patrick’s shirt, making his breath catch. “Bet you can’t make it through the entire game.”

“I can’t see how I’m going to lose here, David.” Patrick secured everything in the safe and pulled him towards the door, laughing. 

“Me neither.” He gave Patrick one last kiss before they got in the car. 

***

The next few days passed as they usually did and he started to forget about the events of the previous Wednesday. One unlucky day in the past five years wasn’t anything to complain about, he thought, as he organized a new shipment of handmade soap on the far side of the store. He looked up to see Patrick watching him from behind the store counter, a slight smile on his lips. 

“What?”

“Nothing.” 

He couldn’t help from smiling back at Patrick, the moment stretching between them, soft and warm. 

“Okay.” It still surprised him sometimes, how lucky he was to have Patrick in his life. Of course, the good luck they had was Patrick’s influence, but it still took his breath away that he got to spend his life with someone he loved, someone who made him happy.

“I’m going to meet with that new vendor this afternoon. Hopefully she’ll give us exclusivity on her products.”

“The woman with the chocolate?”

“Mmm hmm.” He’d met the potential new vendor at a farmer’s market a couple of weeks ago. She made exquisite, handmade chocolates blending flavors like red wine and chili and lavender and pear. He desperately wanted to bring her into the store, knowing her products could be winners for them.

“Don’t eat too many samples.”

“Okay.” He pretended to be annoyed, well-practiced at feigning his irritation after a couple of years of marriage. “Wish me luck.”

“Good luck, honey.” Patrick gave him a quick kiss as he headed out the door.

He returned to the store three hours later in an appallingly bad mood. Not only had the vendor refused to give them exclusivity, she’d refused to place her products with them at all, claiming she was about to break into the Toronto market and that she didn’t need ‘their little store.’ As a further insult, she hadn’t offered him any samples and he hadn’t eaten in hours. 

“It was like she didn’t even want to talk to me!” He paced around the store, eating the rest of Patrick’s leftover lasagna. “I drove all that way for nothing! And I didn’t even get any chocolate!”

Patrick watched him pace for a moment. David could tell he wanted to give him time to calm down. He threw the empty takeout container in the garbage and leaned against the front counter beside his husband. Patrick squeezed his shoulder and he leaned into it for a second, Patrick’s touch grounded him, taking away his frenetic energy.

“Well, I have some good news. Our lease on the space in Elmdale has been approved.”

“You couldn’t have led with that? When do we get possession?”

Patrick shrugged. “You looked like you needed a minute. And two months from now.”

“Two months! I have to design the new displays and get some furniture and let all of our suppliers know and…”

“David. Relax. We don’t have to open the new store in two months. Our plan says we’ll open six months from now. We’ve got lots of time.”

They’d been planning the opening of the second location of Rose Apothecary for about a year now. Or at least, Patrick had been doing most of the planning while David had searched for a location that would match his aesthetics. When the Italian Bistro in downtown Elmdale went out of business, he’d known it was the right space. Now that the lease had come through, he could finally start designing the interior.

The good news about the store made him forget his bad news about the vendor. It wasn’t until the next day that he remembered to ask Patrick about the thing that had been bothering him.

“When I went to see Valerie yesterday about the chocolates, you wished me good luck.”

“Yeah, so?”

“Did you...you know?” If Patrick had used his luck yesterday, why hadn’t the vendor been interested in signing with the store?

Patrick stared at him for a minute. “Yeah, I did.”

David stared back at him. He couldn’t remember a time when Patrick’s luck had failed, when his good luck hadn’t tipped things in their favor. “So what does that mean?” He could hear the worry creeping into his voice.

“I don’t know, David.” Patrick’s voice was calm but there was a note of disquiet in it as well. “Maybe it doesn’t mean anything, maybe her luck was stronger than mine.”

“Yeah, that must be it.” He couldn’t shake the sense of unease that something bigger was going on.

***

The next morning, Patrick left early to meet with the accountant and open the store. David was scheduled to have a late breakfast with his mom before heading to work. It was a beautiful sunny day, and he shook off the last of his misgivings from the previous day as he started on his walk to the cafe. He was about half way there when he noticed how dark the sky was getting. Without warning, the skies opened up and a deluge began. 

He was soaked to the skin when he finally made it to the cafe and the rain showed no signs of stopping. One of his favorite Neil Barrett mohair sweaters was probably ruined and he was cold and shivering. He squished his way to the booth where his mom was waiting.

“David! What calamity has befallen you?”

“What does it look like? I got caught in the rain.” The wet sweater clung uncomfortably to his skin, water was dripping in unpleasant places, causing him to squirm against the seat of the booth.

“It’s not raining.”

“It is now. It just came out of nowhere and I had the bad luck to be caught in it.”

“Are you and Patrick facing obstacles in your relationship?” 

“What? How is that relevant? And we’re fine.” His sweater was sticking wetly between his shoulder blades. Surely that explained the chill that suddenly ran up his back.

“It’s just if you’re having difficulties, that could explain why you’re having a bit of bad luck. It will go back to normal once you and Patrick resolve your problems.”

“We’re not having problems. It’s just a few cases of bad luck!” He was worried now. Worried that things weren’t fine between him and Patrick. Worried that Patrick had been holding something back, keeping his problems with David a secret.

It wasn’t like there weren’t lots to choose from. He was a lot. He’d always been a lot and he was constantly amazed that Patrick had put up with him as long as he had. With a shudder, he turned his attention back to what his mom was saying.

“Well, if everything is fine, then it’s probably just a natural rebalancing of your luck. Has Patrick been using a lot of good luck lately?”

“What do you mean lately?”

“You know how it works. If Patrick’s been using too much of his good luck then bad things are bound to happen until it recalibrates. You know you have to use your bad luck at the same rate as his good luck or else it will get out of balance.”

“Why have you never told me this before now?” This was the first he’d heard of this. No one had ever really explained to him how his luck worked and he’d never had a relationship before Patrick that had lasted long enough for it to be an issue. Like everything else in his life, his parents had probably assumed that he knew how it worked even though they’d never told him. 

Patrick used his luck all the time. Not usually in big ways, but in little ways to make their lives easier and to compensate for David’s bad luck. Why had they never known that they needed to allow David’s bad luck to surface once and awhile? Suddenly, he could feel the weight of his bad luck, dragging at him. 

“Oh David, of course you knew. The whole reason we’re stuck here in the first place and why we’ve never sold this town is because your father used too much of his good luck and then we lost everything.”

He stared at his mom in disbelief. “How did I not know this?”

“What did you think happened? Maybe if you paid attention to someone else’s problems once and awhile you’d know. The only way to get our good luck back is to pass our bad luck on to someone else or to wait. And your father refuses to agree to the first option, so here we are.”

“I have to talk to Patrick.” Despite his wet clothes and the fact that he hadn’t had breakfast, he squelched his way across the street to the store. It was still raining.

Patrick was restocking the hand cream when he came into the store. The rain was clearly keeping their customers away, the store was empty.

“Did you know how it worked?”

“Did I know how what worked? Bringing an umbrella when it’s raining?”

“Okay, it wasn’t raining when I left home and that’s not what I meant. Did you know if we use too much good luck that we’ll run out and bad things will start to happen?”

“What?” Patrick said it so slowly that it felt like a minute had passed between the start and end of the word.

David explained what his mom had said about why the Roses had ended up in Schitt’s Creek in the first place. Patrick looked shaken.

“David. It’s been five years.”

“Yeah.” The past five years had been the happiest of his life and now his happiness had been replaced by a sense of dread about what misfortune was about to befall them. It was clear that Patrick could tell what thoughts were going through his head. 

“It’ll be fine. Nothing major has happened, just a bunch of small things that don’t matter. We’ll figure this out.”

“Okay, the destruction of a Neil Barrett sweater is not a small thing!” He gestured to his very wet sweater that was slowly stretching and losing its shape as it dripped on the floor.

Patrick came over to him as though he was going to slip his arms around his waist. He saw how wet David was and had second thoughts, carefully placing his hands on David’s shoulders instead, squeezing gently. “It will be fine. Don’t you have a change of clothes here somewhere?”

Dressed in dry clothes, he tried to make the best of his hair without his usual products. After a minute, Patrick came up behind him and pressed a bottle of his favorite hair gel into his hand. Patrick wrapped his arms around his shoulders and pressed a kiss to the back of his neck. David shivered.

“No matter what happens, I love you, David.”

He turned in Patrick’s arms, wanting to see his eyes. They were warm and soft, with the tiniest bit of fire burning in them.

“I love you, too.” He’d never meant anything more.


	2. Chapter 2

Everywhere he went he felt like bad luck was lurking, waiting to strike him down at any moment. The smallest moments became harbingers for something bigger. He spilled his coffee and expected to burn his hand. Stevie was fifteen minutes late for their trip to Elmdate and he was sure she’d had an accident. Increasingly, he was on edge, always waiting for the next bad thing to happen. 

Patrick tried to reassure him constantly, his hands reaching to touch him whenever he was near, but David could tell that it was wearing on him as well. 

A month had passed and he was starting to relax a little. Nothing significantly bad had happened. Small moments of bad luck had become more common, the printer at the store died and they had to buy a new one and a shipment of one of their best-selling products was delayed. He got used to occasionally stubbing his toe on the door jam of their apartment and he learned that he had to watch his toast in the morning or it would burn no matter what setting he used. Otherwise, everything seemed normal.

But he could feel it. A heavy presence in the back of his mind, a pressure between his shoulders, lethargy dogging his footsteps as his bad luck waited to pounce. 

When he came into the store Patrick wasn’t behind the counter like he usually was. Ducking into the back room, he saw his husband sitting at the desk staring at the laptop, a worried look on his face. 

“Everything okay?” He set Patrick’s cup of tea in front of him and ran a hand softly up his back. A tiny trickle of fear wound through his stomach.

“We lost money last month. That hasn’t happened since the first year we were open.” 

David could see the worry in the set of Patrick’s mouth and the crease was back between his eyes. 

“How bad is it?”

The panic attack came out of nowhere. Patrick’s voice sounded tinny and distant. He could hear his heart beating, louder and louder and his hands started to shake. His vision was starting to go black around the edges so he sank onto the couch, putting his head between his knees. It was the only thing he’d learned from the therapist that he’d seen in his last year of high school. She hadn’t been a very good therapist, although she was better than the one he’d seen after her who had just wanted to fuck him. Beside him, he could feel Patrick running his hand up and down his back. Everything seemed impossibly far away. 

They could lose the store. Everything they’d worked for, gone, lost to a turn of bad luck. He couldn’t catch his breath. Far, far away, nearly hidden by the thumping of his heart, he could hear a voice.

“David. David. Look at me.”

He lifted his head and opened his eyes, the darkness around the edges of his vision was starting to recede as Patrick’s face slowly came into focus. He looked even more worried than he had before, the crease on his forehead was deeper. 

“I’ve got you.” Patrick’s right hand was rubbing soft circles across David’s shoulders as his left sought out David’s clenched fingers and slipped between them.

“How bad is it?” His voice shook as he repeated the question, but the panic stayed away this time.

“We’re down about 25% from last year.”

“How could you let this happen?”

“I’m sorry?” The hand that was on David’s back stopped moving. 

“You’re the numbers guy and you’re the one who ran out of good luck!” He knew he was being irrational and unfair, but he couldn’t stop himself. Patrick pulled his hands away and moved away to stand on the other side of the room, his arms crossed.

“Part of the reason our profits are down is because you insisted on buying those ceramic peacocks. I told you they wouldn’t sell.” 

“Well, you shouldn’t have let me do that.” His palms hurt from where his fingernails were digging into his hands. He needed to stop talking, to stop blaming Patrick for things that weren’t his fault, but he couldn’t keep himself from making such awful accusations.

“I’m sorry? Let you? Who is the person who lectures me about artistic vision when I try to comment on your purchasing decisions?” Patrick’s jaw was clenched as he bit out the words. 

“Maybe if you hadn’t used up all your luck compensating for my bad decision-making, we wouldn’t be in this mess.” 

“David…” Patrick paused, the look on his face was a mixture of anger and anguish. “I need some air.” 

Moments later, David heard the front door of the store close. He put his head back in his hands, panic playing along the edges of his anger, the toxic combination fading into the certainty that he’d just ruined the best thing that had ever happened to him.

He was still sitting in the same position fifteen minutes later when he heard the bell over the door ring again.

“Go away, we’re closed.” He hoped whoever it was would just leave, leave him alone, since that’s what he was now, without Patrick. With his luck, they’d probably steal half of the store, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. After a minute, the curtain on the door was pulled aside to reveal Stevie in the doorway. 

“I see your customer service skills are still one of your best traits.”

“Go away.”

“Are you okay? Where’s Patrick?” Stevie came into the room, tugging the curtain closed behind her. She sat on the couch beside him and looked at him carefully, eyes narrowed.

He shrugged and looked at Stevie miserably. “We had a fight.”

“You’ve had fights before.” It was true, they’d had disagreements before, but there’d been an edge to this that made it feel different. It felt rawer, as though the loss of their good luck had also taken away their ability to soften their anger.

“Not like this.”

“Is it the luck thing?”

“Yes. No. Kind of. The store’s losing money and I’m...I’m worried that it can’t survive without Patrick’s good luck and we’ve just taken on this new lease for the new location, which probably means that we’ll just fail in two places instead of just one and it’s all my fault because it’s my bad luck that’s making this happen. And what if Patrick never comes back?” The final sentence was quiet, he couldn’t quite believe that he’d said the words out loud.

“I’m pretty sure it’s going to take more than an argument to keep Patrick away.”

“Why would he want to come back? Things are going to get worse and worse and he won’t have any way to counteract all of this.” He waved at himself. “How long is he going to want to put up with the version of me that tarnishes everything it touches?”

“David. Patrick will put up with you until the end of time.” The bell over the front door rang. Stevie squeezed his arm and got up to see who it was. He could hear her talking in a low voice to whoever had come into the store. The bell on the door rang again. He put his head back in his hands and closed his eyes, waiting for Stevie to come back.

A soft hand caressed the back of his neck.

“Can I sit down?” He opened his eyes to see Patrick standing beside him. He nodded, his eyes filling with tears.

The couch sagged a little as Patrick’s weight settled beside him. He let Patrick wrap his arms around him and felt him press a kiss to his temple, before Patrick murmured in his ear. 

“Are you okay?”

He nodded again, not trusting himself to speak quite yet. Patrick’s arms felt like they always did, strong and safe.

“This isn’t the end of the world. It just means we’ll have to work a little harder at some of the things that we didn’t have to worry about before.” Patrick’s fingers raked through the short hair at the back of his neck, taking some of his tension away. “We’ll figure it out together.”

He tucked his face into Patrick’s shoulder. “Yeah, together.” It was a whisper and he wasn’t sure if Patrick heard. The tendril of fear he’d been carrying for the last month retreated slightly, but remained, wrapped around his heart.

***

“Roland. As I told you before, we don’t carry Mr Hockley’s special tea anymore. Just the regular herbal blend.”

“Okay, Dave. I don’t want to tell you how to run your business, but letting your best selling products go out stock seems like a bad idea. Why don’t you call me when it comes back in stock.”

“It won’t be coming back in stock.” He grimaced at Roland in frustration, but Roland had already moved on to examine the foot cream on the other side of the table. David’s eyes met Patrick’s across the store and they both grinned.

It was the fifth anniversary of the store and they were celebrating with the launch of a new line of signature products that David had curated. Of course, to lure people to the store, they were also offering a special one day discount. The line had been around the corner before they opened, making David recall their opening from five years ago. The huge crowd was alleviating some of David’s fears that the event would be undermined by his bad luck and judging from Patrick’s smile as he looked after the cash, sales were going well. 

Even without the anniversary event, their sales had improved over the past month. He still felt as though they were living on a knife edge, that something could go wrong at any moment, but for the most part the fear stayed in the back of his mind, lurking instead of overwhelming his senses. 

He’d been trying to release his bad luck slowly over the past couple of weeks, hoping to relieve the pressure without causing the anniversary event, or anything else, to fail. He knew that Patrick had been using as much good luck as he could to influence the success of this evening and it looked like it was paying off. He felt lighter than he had in a long time, perhaps they had figured out how to deal with their bad luck after all.

“Looks like things are going okay?” 

He turned to find Stevie standing beside him. 

“I hope so.”

“Is there a special discount for friends who talk you off of whichever ledge you’ve climbed on to?” Stevie gestured hopefully to the two bottles of wine she was carrying.

“If I gave you a discount for that, we really would go out of business.” For a moment they grinned at each other. Stevie nodded in Patrick’s direction.

“You two okay?”

He pushed his fear down. Since their fight they’d worked together to plan this event and put some marketing and cost-cutting strategies in place. Everything had gone back to normal. Except, he worried constantly, about Patrick, about the store. 

“We’re fine.”

“Fine?” Stevie’s eyes were narrowed, her gaze piercing.

“Everything’s fine. It’s good. I’m...I’m just scared, is all. Something could go wrong at any moment. I can’t lose him.” 

“I know.” Stevie squeezed his arm. “For what it’s worth, you’d have to do something really stupid for Patrick to give up on you.”

“Yeah.” He wanted to believe her, but he wasn’t sure that even she fully grasped his ability for self-sabotage.

“So about that discount…?”

“You just told me that I wasn’t allowed to do anything really stupid.”

Stevie rolled her eyes at him, but she was laughing at she moved towards the till to pay for the wine she’d selected.

They finally closed the doors forty-five minutes after their scheduled closing time when the last customers made their way out the doors. David finished sweeping the floor and watched Patrick reconcile the cash.

“How does it look?”

Patrick looked up, a grin spreading across his face. “It’s really, really good. Better than we projected.”

David let out the breath he didn’t know he’d been holding and tugged Patrick towards him, wrapping his arms around him and burying his face in his neck. Patrick hugged him back and they stood there together, swaying slightly. After all of the ups and downs of the past couple of months, he felt like they had finally overcome the bad luck that had been following them.

Patrick’s hands were stroking up and down his back and David felt his lips press softly against his neck. Love, relief, and a fading riptide of fear threatened to overwhelm him. It was too much. It was exactly enough.

Patrick’s phone buzzed on the counter, startling them apart.

“Patrick Brewer.”

“Uh-huh. When did this happen?” There was a worried note in Patrick’s voice and the fear that David had thought he’d seen the last of returned, settling in a cold lump in his stomach.

“October? Okay.” Patrick didn’t sound happy. “Keep me posted.” He turned to David, a concerned look on his face.

“There was a fire in the building next door to the new store. Our building wasn’t burnt, but there was a lot of smoke damage. It’s going to delay our opening by a couple of months.”

David’s worst fears returned. Their luck hadn’t improved, it had only shifted for a while. He stared at Patrick.

“What do we do now?” His voice was quiet, almost a whisper. He wasn’t talking about the new store.

His usually confident husband looked at him helplessly. “I don’t know.”


	3. Chapter 3

He hated this. Hated not knowing what was going to go wrong, to not be able to enjoy something like the anniversary of the store because of all the bad things that might happen. It reminded him of his old life, before he came to Schitt’s Creek, before he met Patrick. At least then he’d had money to buy his way out of the problems his bad luck had created. 

He wished there was a way he could take things back to the way they’d been before everything got messed up. He’d tried sending more of his back luck out into the universe, but he’d just ended up with cold coffee and wrong orders from the cafe. He was scared to simply release all of his back luck at once, worried about how it might affect the town or the store or his marriage. 

The anniversary event had improved their sales numbers, but he knew that Patrick was still worried. He spent most of his time at the store in the back room pouring over their sales reports and developing new marketing plans. 

“I’m going to Mr Hockley’s farm this afternoon to get more tea, so you’ll have to be at the counter.”

“Okay.” He could tell that Patrick hadn’t really heard him. He came up behind his desk chair and leaned over his shoulder to close the laptop, resting his hands on his husband’s shoulders, massaging gently.

“I’m going to get the tea.”

“Right.” Patrick leaned his head back against David’s stomach. “Sorry, I just want to make sure I haven’t missed anything.”

“You haven’t. And you need to step away from the computer for a bit. I’ll be back around three.” He kissed Patrick softly, lingering for a second before he slipped out the front door.

“Don’t forget to check the tea before you buy it!” Patrick’s voice followed him out the door.

As he drove to Mr Hockley’s farm he tried to think of ways to accelerate the use of his bad luck without causing an earthquake or destroying their store or making Patrick leave him. Trickling out his bad luck wasn’t working and he didn’t think he could suffer through the next five years not knowing if every day was going to be as bad as the past couple of months had been. He felt as though the pressure of it was pinning him to the ground. He needed something big, a way to deal with his luck all at once, to get everything back to the way it should be. 

Mr Hockley came out to greet him as he pulled into the farmyard. As usual, he looked like he hadn’t changed his hair or his clothes since the Sixties. His long beard and tie-dyed t-shirt made David cringe. He grimaced, hating that he had to talk to someone with such terrible grooming and fashion sense. Hopefully, he could make this visit as short as possible.

“Mr Hockley. I’m here about the tea?”

“David, what a blessed day this is.”

He kept himself from rolling his eyes, he wasn’t in the mood for the farmer’s new agey hippy talk today.

“It is a beautiful day. Did you get a chance to put together the order we talked about on the phone?”

“So abrupt. Your energy seems a little misaligned, David. Would you like to join me for my afternoon meditation? I like to spend at least three hours a day making sure my mind is completely blank.”

“Oh? I can...I can see that. Unfortunately, Patrick needs me at the store.”

“Meditation makes me blissfully relaxed. I must be the luckiest man in the world.”

“Right, the tea?” As he heard Mr Hockley’s words, an idea dawned on David. If Mr Hockley was the luckiest man in the world, perhaps he wouldn’t notice if David gave him some of his bad luck, maybe then he’d only be the second luckiest man in the world but he’d still have better luck than David did. Reaching for his luck, he gave a little push, sending a chunk of his bad luck over to Mr Hockley. Immediately, he felt freer, more bouyant. He gave a small sigh of relief, delighting in the feeling.

As he drove back to the store, he realized that he couldn’t tell Patrick about what he’d done. He had a feeling that Patrick would think it was wrong to pass his luck on to someone else, that he would definitely not approve. 

Patrick was at the counter when he came in, the store was busy, several customers were waiting in line while others browsed the shelves. He gave Patrick a quick kiss on the cheek.

“The woman at the back wants to know more about the new moisturizer.”

He spent the rest of the afternoon helping customers and he barely had a chance to talk to Patrick. They finally locked the door behind the last customer and took a minute to catch their breath before wrapping up the day. He leaned on the counter and watched Patrick finish reconciling the cash.

“How was Mr Hockley?”

“Good, the tea is drug free.” David pushed aside the guilt he was feeling about what he’d done. Mr Hockley had said it himself, he was a lucky guy, he shouldn’t have any problem absorbing some of David’s bad luck.

“You okay?” Patrick was frowning at him, a concerned look on his face.

“Yeah. Yes. Just tired, it was a long day. Seems like it was a good sales day while I was gone, maybe I should stay away more often?”

“Yeah, it really picked up about an hour after you left, but don’t think you’re getting off that easily.”

David’s guilt returned, that would have been about the same time he’d met with Mr Hockley. If he needed more evidence that passing on his bad luck had been successful, that was it.

“It’s almost like our luck is shifting.”

“Mmm hmm.” He looked away, hoping that Patrick wouldn’t see the guilt on his face.

“David? What aren’t you telling me?” Patrick’s eyes were narrowed as he looked at him. David knew he wouldn’t let it go until he told him.

“Fine. I...I may have given some of my bad luck to Mr Hockley. He was going on about energy and meditation and how he was the luckiest guy in the world and why should he have all the good luck when everything is going wrong and we could lose the store so I just did it. And I’m not sorry.”

He crossed his arms defensively. He knew Patrick was going to be angry with him. 

“You did what?”

He stared at Patrick defiantly. 

“I can’t go on like this, waiting for bad things to happen everyday. I didn’t give him all my bad luck, just enough to give us a bit of a breather.”

“David, that’s totally unethical. What if something really bad happens to him? He’s an old man, what if he dies?” Patrick’s voice was rising with each sentence, disbelief and horror flickering across his face.

He reached for Patrick’s hand but his husband flinched away. The fear that had been wrapped around his heart for months grew icy cold and clenched a little tighter. Patrick moved to stand by the door.

“I think...I think I need some time to think about this. You’ll have to close up by yourself.” He turned to leave.

“See you at home tonight?” He couldn’t keep the desperation out of his voice.

Patrick turned back, the look on his face made David want to cry.

“No. I don’t think you will.”

***

He was completely numb. He managed to close the store and stumble home, where he’d curled up in a ball on the couch. Three hours later, it was getting dark. He’d been staring at the corner of the coffee table, unable to look away as his thoughts raced in circles. It was dented there from when Patrick had knocked it into the door jam when they were moving in. The laughter he remembered from that day echoed mockingly around his thoughts of what had happened today. 

It had been years since he’d been this scared. He’d become so accustomed to feeling safe and comfortable that he’d forgotten how to make it through the day with fear chewing at his insides. Every time he closed his eyes, he could see the look on Patrick’s face as he’d left the store, left David behind. The pain in Patrick’s eyes, the closed off look on his face haunted him. The idea that this might be what the future looked like, empty and grey without Patrick, made him sick to his stomach. 

Maybe it didn’t matter what he did next. Whether he gave his bad luck to someone else or used it himself, it was clear that he needed to use up his bad luck for once and for all. Maybe, just maybe, if he could get rid of it, things would go back to the way they’d been before. Maybe there’d be a chance he could salvage his marriage.

Before he could think it through, he took a deep breath and reached for his bad luck, turning it inwards on himself and releasing it. He could feel it leave him. He’d never felt like this before, it was like he was floating. Then, despair reclaimed him, pulling him back to reality. With a whimper, he got up and got ready for bed, forgoing his usual skincare regime in favor of crawling under the covers.

He was exhausted, but he couldn’t sleep. He missed Patrick, his warm presence in the bed beside him, the kisses he would press to the back of his neck before they fell asleep, the quiet ‘I love you’ he whispered into David’s skin every night. Holding back tears, he rolled over to the other side of the bed and buried his face in Patrick’s pillow. Breathing in Patrick’s scent, he finally fell asleep.

His phone was buzzing. He wanted it to stop. Why wasn’t Patrick making it stop? He opened his eyes and the events of yesterday came rushing back. Patrick wasn’t here. Patrick might never be here again. But maybe Patrick was the one who was texting at eight o’clock in the morning. He picked up his phone. There were texts from his dad, from his mom, even from Alexis.

_Dad 7:45 am: David, wake up!_  
 **Mom 7:46 am:David, glorious news!**  
Alexis 7:48 am: Oh my god David, text me right now!  
 _Dad 7:52 am: David, we’ve sold the town!_  
 **Mom 7:55 am: We’re finally getting out! Back to the place we all deserve.**

He dropped his head back to his pillow. He knew he had caused this. He was going to have to choose between going back to his old life with his family or staying here with Patrick. Twenty four hours ago, the decision would have been easy but now he didn’t even know if Patrick would ever speak to him again.

He couldn’t even think about opening the store. Instead, he stayed in bed for the rest of the morning. Trying to sleep, trying to forget, trying to decide. He texted Alexis back and discovered that his parents were planning to leave as soon as the money was deposited in their account, which could be as soon as the next day.

Hunger finally drove him out of bed, he finished the leftover pizza that was in the fridge and the entire carton of mint chocolate chip ice cream that Patrick had bought. The numbness returned, this time it was combined with nausea from eating too much.

There was still no word from Patrick. 

He didn’t know what to do. If there was even the smallest chance that Patrick would forgive him, he would gladly stay here for as long as it took. But if it was truly over between them, then he wanted to be as far away from here as possible. The idea of staying and having to see Patrick every day while having to live without him was unbearable.

He pulled out a couple of his suitcases and began to pack. He told himself that he was only packing so that he’d be prepared. He’d decide whether he was staying of going in the morning when he heard from his parents again. More importantly, maybe by then he’d have heard something from Patrick.

The suitcases were full and they hadn’t made a dent in his collection of clothing. He didn’t even know what he’d packed, it would probably end up being a mishmash of things that he could never wear together, but he didn’t care.

He couldn’t sit still but he didn’t know what to do with himself. He paced around the apartment, each time he ended back up in the bedroom. Finally he laid down on their bed, curling up on Patrick’s side. The pillow still smelled like him, cirtusy with a hint of spice. He wondered where Patrick had gone. Was he at a friend’s? At a hotel? Halfway to his parent’s house? He knew he should try to phone but the tears were choking his throat. He texted instead.

_I love you. Please don’t leave me._

He could see that Patrick had read his message but there was no reply. He stared at his phone, willing the three little dots to appear to indicate that Patrick was typing a response.

There was still no answer when he finally fell asleep, phone in his hand, pillow damp beneath his cheek.


	4. Chapter 4

“David, sweetheart, wake up.” A hand was gently shaking his shoulder. He didn’t want to open his eyes, didn’t want to have to wake up to another day without Patrick or even worse, a day where he had to face his husband, probably for the last time. Slowly the realization dawned that the voice had called him ‘sweetheart.’ He opened his eyes, squinting against the light. Patrick was standing beside the bed, looking at him, his face inscrutable. 

“Mr Hockley’s been arrested.”

“Oh my god.” This was his fault. Patrick was never going to forgive him. He closed his eyes and turned his head back into the pillow. He assumed Patrick had come to pick up some of his things or maybe to talk about how they were going to manage the store so that they didn’t have to see each other all the time. 

“David. They found a meth lab in his basement.”

His eyes flew open. “What?”

Patrick gave him a half shrug and a small smile. “I still don’t like what you did and we’re definitely going to talk about it, but it actually turned out all right.”

“Yeah, okay.” He chewed on the inside of his cheek, not sure what to say next. He’d never wanted anything bad to happen to Mr Hockley, hearing that he was selling drugs that were stronger than the pot that occasionally made it into their tea was a bit of a shock.

“Shove over. You’re on my side.” Patrick pushed at his shoulder. He sat up and pulled himself into the middle of the bed. Patrick grabbed a pillow and sat up against the headboard. He wanted Patrick to put his arms around him and tell him that everything was going to be okay but he wasn’t sure if Patrick was willing to do that. He moved far enough away that there was space between them, letting Patrick chose how much contact they had. Patrick looked at him carefully and held out his hand, palm up. With a small sigh, he tangled his fingers with Patrick’s, closing his eyes for a second as Patrick rested both their hands in his lap.

“That’s not why I came.” Patrick’s eyes roamed around the room before landing on the suitcases that David had packed last night. “Wait, were you going to leave?”

“I...I can’t stay here without you and my parents sold the town. They’re finally getting out.”

“You were just going to run away?”

“You know I’m nothing but bad luck, you’re better off without me.” He tried to pull his hand away but Patrick tightened his grip.

“You did this, didn’t you? Your luck made the town sell. Did you use your luck on your dad or your sister? Or on me? Not your mother, obviously, since this is probably the best day of her life.” 

“On myself.” He was glad Patrick was sitting beside him so he didn’t have to look at him. He stared at the suitcases, thinking of all the things that he wanted to take but that would never fit inside, like the rest of his clothes, the store they’d built together, Patrick. 

“God, David.” David could tell that he’d shocked his usually unflappable husband. Was Patrick still his husband? Or were the days limited that he could call him that? He leaned his head back against the headboard and closed his eyes, relishing the way Patrick’s fingers felt between his, hoping it wouldn’t be the last time he held Patrick’s hand in his. 

“You used up five years of bad luck on yourself? You’re lucky you didn’t get hit by a car!” There was a slightly frantic note in Patrick’s voice that he’d never heard before.

He shook his head. “That isn’t the worst thing that could happen to me.”

“What? Dying isn’t the worst thing?” Patrick’s voice was definitely hysterical now.

“Losing you.” 

There was a long moment of silence. David couldn’t bear to open his eyes to look at Patrick. He wasn’t surprised when he felt Patrick release his hand. Slowly he pulled it back and put it in his own lap. He felt the bed shift. He didn’t want to watch as Patrick left the room, left their apartment, left their life together, so he kept his eyes closed. His breath caught as he felt Patrick’s hands grip his shoulders and pulled him close.

“Never...never...never do that again.” Patrick’s voice was low and harsh and his hands were clutching David’s shoulders so tightly it almost hurt. “I don’t care if we never sell another thing at the store, promise me you’ll never do that again.”

Patrick’s hand grasped the back of his neck and he pulled David towards him. There was nothing gentle about Patrick’s kiss, David could feel a mix of worry, anger, and possessiveness in the rough press of his lips. Patrick’s teeth were cutting into his lips and his stubble was harsh against his skin. It might have been the best kiss of his life. 

He opened his eyes and pulled away a little so he could see Patrick’s face. He looked shaken, his face was pale, his eyes wide. The fear was mixed with softness and love that he’d been afraid he’d never see again. For the first time in two days, he took a deep breath. “Are you planning on using up all your luck again so that I’ll have that much bad luck to draw from?”

Patrick shuddered. “No, definitely not. I think going forward we should promise to only use our luck when we really need it. And no more using our luck on other people.” 

“I’m definitely okay with that.” He rested his head on Patrick’s shoulder, glad of the solid presence beside him. They sat together in silence for a long while, at some point Patrick had recaptured his hand and he was running his thumb along David’s rings.

“Why did you come?”

“Hmm?” Patrick’s voice was soft and distracted, as though he was lost in the repetitive motion of his thumb on David’s hand.

“Why did you come? You said it wasn’t to tell me about Mr Hockley.”

“Did you really think I would just walk away from you, from us, without talking about what happened?” There was a note of resignation beneath Patrick’s disbelief, as though he’d hoped for, but not expected, anything more from him.

“Experience has taught me that that’s what people usually do, so yes.”

“I hoped that by now experience would have taught you that I’m not like those other people. I would never give up on us so easily.” Patrick pressed a kiss to the center of David’s palm, before curling his fingers back over it, as though he was trying to hold it in place.

As was often the case, Patrick’s sincerity brought tears to his eyes. “It has. I just...forget sometimes. And I assumed that my bad luck would keep you away. That it was what I deserved.”

“I’m not going to let luck push me around. Maybe we should take the luck out of our relationship and just rely on each other from now on?”

David’s laugh was a bit teary. “I think that’s a good idea.”

***

“Lucky catch!”

David grabbed the bottle of wine just before it hit the floor. He gave the customer who was responsible for nearly breaking the forty dollar bottle a grimace before he looked at Patrick, they both knew that luck had nothing, or rather, everything, to do with it.

The new store was packed with people. The grand opening definitely qualified as a success as new customers from Elmdale, along with a number of their regulars from Schitt’s Creek, filled the store. They were run off their feet, but with Wanda, the woman they’d hired to manage the store, running the till, David managed to pull his husband into the back room for a quick break, ostensibly to restock the hand cream, which kept selling out. He draped his arms over Patrick’s shoulders, giving him a quick kiss on the lips.

“You know that next week is going to suck, right?”

“I know, but this makes it worth it.”

They’d been under a crunch to get the new store open on time and Patrick had been pushing out his good luck to make sure the permits and products arrived on time so they could have this opening. David had been holding back his bad luck, hoping to ensure that everything went smoothly. So far, it appeared their strategy was a success but they both knew they were going to pay for it next week when David had to release his bad luck.

He could feel it again. It wasn’t as bad as before, it was more like an itch that was just out of reach, nagging at the back of his mind. It was different from the heavy burden that he had been dragging around for the past five years. He desperately wanted to scratch it, and he couldn’t wait for the relief that would come when he could finally let it go even though he knew next week would be an endless torment of bumped elbows and cold coffee. 

“I think I should just plan to take next week off, just in case.” He ran his hands along Patrick’s shoulders, his fingers teasing the back of his neck.

“That’s very convenient since I happen to know that the new season of Queer Eye dropped yesterday and you’re dying to watch it. Plus, I’m not sure you can avoid the bad luck just by staying home.” 

“You’re teasing me and I haven’t even had any bad luck yet.”

Patrick shrugged. “What else is new?”

“C’mere, you.” He pulled Patrick close, kissing him softly, letting their noses bump together as they both smiled into the kiss. There was a crash from the other room. He leaned his forehead against Patrick’s with a groan. “I hope that wasn’t one of those hand-blown glass vases.”

“I think we both know that it probably was.”

He kissed Patrick again. He’d break every vase in the store if it helped keep his bad luck under control.

“Just my luck.”


End file.
